


Blue-green Gem

by Wynamo_Willagers



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Gen, With a side of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-17 11:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wynamo_Willagers/pseuds/Wynamo_Willagers
Summary: There used to be many Crystal Gems. Now, only a few remain: Steven Universe, the Human-Gem hybrid, and Chrysocolla, the the last Gem on Earth. After Rose Quartz passed, Chrysocolla expected a long challenge ahead. And though the future is scarier alone, Chrysocolla isn’t—not in any sense of the word. Even still, nothing is right, and it's only a matter of time before Steven finds out exactly how not-right everything is.Stories of a peculiar Gem and the boy she promised to protect.





	1. Prologue: Chrysocolla and Steven

**Author's Note:**

> Consider this my take on a momswap AU, where nothing's quite right and nothing quite fits, and only a single gem or two happens to know why that all is.  
> Advice, comments, and criticism is always appreciated!

How odd. She usually wasn’t one to sleep so long. Or, rather, to sleep at all.

The fusion lifted her body, both pairs of teal arms wrapped tightly, protectively, around Rose—no, Steven. He was apparently still snoozing as the television static played on ceaselessly. The video tape must have run out while they were sleeping.

She should really have begun the day sometime soon. But Steven was warm in her arms, and his human bed was so soft—she could afford to wait it out a little while longer before she began the morning routine, couldn’t she?

Utilizing her ferrokenesis, Chrysocolla gently pressed the power button to the television, and the static vanished.

Just she, herself, and Steven. Yeah, that sounded nice.

And Greg. How could she forget..?

The screen door opened rather roughly as Steven Universe’s father stepped in, grinning widely. “‘Morning, Schtu-ball! I brought some pizza to wake you up for our-” He stopped, face flushing red, as he caught what he was interrupting. From her position laying down on the bed, Chrysocolla shot him a glare.

Greg rubbed the back of his head and averted his eyes, pizza box in his free hand, “Aw, jeez. Didn’t know you were still sleeping.”

“You shouldn’t come so early.” Chrysocolla couldn’t hide all of her annoyance.

“It’s 11 AM,” Greg defended himself, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sorry if I intruded on a moment, or something.”

“Oh, it’s okay, dad, I’m awake!” Steven jumped up from his bed and off of Chrysocolla’s lap, causing the gem to yell in surprise.

“H-How long were you awake, Steven?” Chrysocolla stammered.

"A while, I guess,” Steven shrugged. Upon noticing the gem’s flush of embarrassment, he offered a weak grin and an, “I’m sorry?”

“Anyways, Steven. Pizza?” Greg grinned up at his son. He didn’t need to repeat himself, as Steven jumped down from the loft to hug his dad, and graciously accepted a slice.

 _He’s like Rose, but… in a different way,_ the blue half of Chrysocolla observed.

 _That doesn’t matter, doesn’t it,_ the green half responded. _We have to take care of him._

 _Of course,_ agreed the blue half.

She stood up and stretched— _sleep isn’t natural for gems,_ noted the green half.

 _But stretching feels nice,_ added the blue half.

“It does feel nice,” murmured Chrysocolla, quietly as to not disturb Greg and Steven’s conversation. “It really does.” Gracefully taking the staircase down from the loft, Chrysocolla arranged herself at the bar, opposite from Greg and Steven, and joined in on their conversation.

Everything was fine. Nothing was fine.


	2. Gem Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> However alone she may or may not be—one or two or three or four—Chrysocolla still is a Crystal Gem. She has to take care of them, just as Steven will.

Chrysocolla was disturbed from her system maintenance as Steven roughly threw open the screen door, “Chrysocolla! You won’t believe what I got!”

The gem, on the other hand, gasped and quickly waved away her floating teal screen. “Careful with the door! I just installed it yesterday, don’t you remember!?” She gestured wildly with both of her left arms out the window and towards the growing pile of broken screen doors, televisions, and other household items, outside on the beach.

“Oh! Sorry, Chrysocolla,” Steven quickly apologized, taking care to gingerly shut the door behind him. “But look what I gooooot!” With a grunt, he hoisted the heavy appliance from his back and onto the wooden floor.

“A… refrigerator?” Chrysocolla asked confusedly, even as she already had an inkling of what this was all about.

“Not just any refrigerator,” Steven explained excitedly, “The Big Donut’s Cookie Cat refrigerator! You see, they were discontinued, and-”

“Oh, that!” Chrysocolla realized, slapping a palm to her forehead. “I bought all of them.”

Steven’s eyes widened more, somehow. “You did what?”

Chrysocolla grinned widely, “I exchanged currency for your preferred brand of sweetened dairy product!” Looking rather impressed with herself, she continued, “The human clerks had issue with accepting cryptocurrency in exchange, but I talked them into it.”

“You bought… all of them!?” Steven grinned ear-to-ear.

“I did, didn’t you hear?” Chrysocolla raised an eyebrow.

She didn’t expect the ensuing tight hug from Steven, but found it in herself to return it, anyways. Looking down at him, she added with a grin, “Just remember to pace yourself, Steven. It isn’t healthy for humans to eat so many instances of sweetened dairy products in one meal.”

“Why don’t you just call it ice cream?” Steven questioned.

“I find ‘ice cream’—”  Chrysocolla used heavy air quotes “— to be an inaccurate descriptor.”

“Oooookay,” Steven replied, bemused. “But thank you so much, anyway!” After giving her one more squeeze, he left her side and ran to the fridge, eagerly opening it and digging into the treats inside.

_Good kid. I should acquire more sweetened dairy products for his consumption._

_Or maybe I_ should _call it ice cream._

_...Nah._

Once again summoning her teal screen, she continued her maintenance. Every defense system around every important Gem site in the world seemed to be online, still—but considering that the last time a system failed had only been several weeks ago, it wouldn’t hurt to check again. Chrysocolla hazarded a glance up at Steven, still marvelling at the little cat-shaped sweetened dairy products, before delving into her more sensitive work-

“Hey, Chrysocolla, why don’t you like ice cream?”

Eh, it’s probably for the best that she’s distracted from her work right now. “Why do you ask, Steven?” Chryscocolla put away her floating screen once again, the pad vanishing into thin air.

“Well, first of all, ice cream’s delicious,” Steven pointed out, as if it were obvious. “Second, you don’t eat. Like, almost ever. Sometimes you eat with dad, but even then, you’re real weird about it, and—”

“I get it, Steven,” she laughed. “But I’m sure that Greg and I told you that Gems don’t need to eat.”

“I knoooow that,” Steven reminded her. “But, how?”

Chrysocolla hummed, and took a seat on the coffee table. “Well, gems are made of light,” She explained. “Our bodies, our weapons— _everything_ about us is thanks to our gems.” She gestured to the triangular gem on her forehead with one pair of hands, and with the other, she reached behind her back. Though her back was away from Steven, he was already well aware of the teardrop-shaped gem on her back.

His eyes widened, “Am _I_ made of light?”

Chrysocolla hesitated. “No, I don’t think so.”

She couldn’t lie: the ensuing look of disappointment was sharp. “I _am_ a Crystal Gem though, right?”

_I don’t want to be the only Crystal Gem. I never wanted Rose to leave me._

“Yeah,” she smiled. “You are.”

“But… I can’t summon anything like you can,” he complained. Finding a seat at the bar, he looked down at a cookie cat glumly, the treat still in its wrapper. “Can’t summon your cool screens, or your surfsword.”

“Steven, it’s not a surfsword—it’s a greatsword which is also a surfboard.”

Steven only looked up at her with big, sad eyes, and it suddenly occurred to Chrysocolla that that wasn’t the best thing to say. _“Buuuuut!”_ she continued lightheartedly, “You don’t need all that! The—the great thing about…”

Chrysocolla suddenly faltered, and this time it was Steven who became concerned. “Chrysocolla..?”

“It’s just…” She looked up from her lap, and at Steven. “Your mother always saw the best in humans. And honestly, I see now that she was right about what she saw.” Both pairs of hands clasped together in her lap. “You can grow, you can create, and you’re… not _stuck_ where you are. Not like Gems.” _Not like me._

Steven offered her a somber smile. Really, even for his immaturity, there was a little spark of Rose within him at all times.

And Greg, too, she supposed.

“Hey,” he soothed, “As long as I get to live with the coolest Gem ever, and with Dad, and with these Cookie Cats, then I don’t think I got anything to worry about.”

Chrysocolla grinned, veil of somberness vanishing. “Well, are you going to let that ice cream melt in your hand, then?” _He’s right, though; ‘ice cream’_ is _much easier to say._

“Nope!” Gingerly removing the wrapper, Steven took a bite right out of one of the sharper edges of the treat; Steven had once explained to her that he liked to eat the ‘ears’ first. The treat had no functional ears, and frankly it was disturbing to learn that Steven enjoyed consuming specific body parts, but Steven was happy, and therefore, so was Chrysocolla. Even as he sat there, eating his ice cream in only the way a human child could, he looked so _right_ , like Rose would’ve wanted.

He looked so pink.

“Talk about rose-tinted glasses,” Chrysocolla suddenly murmured, rubbing her eyes as she removed her visor. Looking up, though, she let out a gasp, and leapt up from her seat on the table.

Steven had yet to notice.

“Steven,” Chrysocolla marvelled, “your gem… it’s glowing!”

“It—it whuuagh?” Steven abruptly realized this as he opened his eyes and looked down at his belly, the surprise causing him to slip off the barstool and land on his back, on the hardwood floor.

He jumped up to his feet, unhurt. “WhaddoIdowhaddoIdowhaddoIdowhaddoI—!?”

“C-calm down, Steven! You can’t force it!” She grinned widely and, behind the boy, conjured a screen which would record his first-ever weapon summoning. Assuming it all went well.

Steven decidedly wasn’t calm. “H-how do I summon my weapon!?” He nervously swallowed his mouthful of Cookie Cat, hopping up and down anxiously.

Chrysocolla let out a sigh, “Breathe for me! I…” She looked off to the side. This will be difficult to explain. “When you need to summon your weapon… It will just happen!”

“What’s that even mean!?” Steven asked. The pink glow faded further, and this time, both Chrysocolla and Steven found themselves panicking.

_This isn’t working! Maybe a demonstration will help?_

“L-Like so!” adopting a steely expression, both of Chrysocolla’s gems glowed a bright teal, in a glow that woefully overtook Steven’s pink glow. From her forehead, a bright white handle emerged about a foot in length, Chrysocolla pulled it from her head as from her back, two white wings emerged.

She felt the sheer exhilaration of the act swell through her, as she always did.

Taking a dramatic pose, she moved the handle behind her back, and the wings attached to the star-shaped hilt, solidifying into a long, glowing, white oval. The light solidified, and Chrysocolla swung her golden greatsword in front of her with a triumphant cry, dramatically swinging it in front of her—

And slicing right through a wooden pillar, with the sword thankfully sailing a foot above Steven’s head. The pillar thankfully didn’t collapse, and Steven didn’t look worse for wear at all.

But his glow was gone.

“Wow,” he murmured, stunned, “That’s always cool.”

Blushing a bright blue, Chrysocolla took a sudden self-conscious step backwards, The teal screen behind Steven, which had recorded the whole thing, vanished. Her greatsword followed, and Chrysocolla began to stutter. “Y-your gem. Steven, I…”

“Oh,” Steven noticed, looking back down at his belly. “I… guess I can’t do it.”

“Yet!” Chrysocolla reminded, shakey smile on her face.

Steven offered her a grin in turn.

With a sigh, Chrysocolla pinched the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes. What a nightmare. “Alright, let’s take five, Steven. I’ll help you conjure your Gem weapon somehow. Until then, why not go down to Greg’s place? A—and take some of those ‘Cookie Cats’ with you.”

“Wh-why?”

“I just ruined the structural integrity of your house, and I have to fix it. I’d appreciate it if you weren’t crushed anytime soon.”

Steven offered her an odd look, but was happy to listen nonetheless. “Yeah,” he said as he collected his things, grinning. “Okay, I’ll be down with Dad if you need me!”

Steven waves, and Chrysocolla waved back, grinning a little wider than before. And at that, he shut the screen door—gingerly—and ran down the steps onto the beach. Chrysocolla stepped out onto the patio to see him off, watching him vanish behind the curve of the cliff as he ran towards Beach City.

As soon as he was gone, the teal gem immediately fell backwards onto one of the patio chairs, letting out a long sigh as her smile vanished. “This… is gonna be tough.”

Seemingly on cue, the entirety of Steven’s house collapsed in on itself. Chrysocolla winced, not able to bring herself to even look at the carnage she wrought.

“...Yikes.” _This’ll take a few hours to fix._

With another long sigh, she once again conjured her teal screen. May as well carry on with her sensitive work.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t know, Dad,” Steven admitted. “Chrysocolla thinks I can do it, but…” he sighed. “Maybe I can’t.”

Greg scoffed, “That’s nonsense, Steven. You’ve never summoned your weapon before—of course it won’t be easy the first time, right?”

“Yeaaah, but…” He looked off to the side. “What if I need it soon? Chrysocolla and Mom were the protectors of the earth. H—how am I supposed to fill in for Mom if I can’t even summon my weapon?”

Greg seemed to wince at something Steven said, but the boy wasn’t sure what. He replied without missing a beat anyways, “That’s totally okay, Steven! Your Mom talked a lot about you, when she was carrying.” A nostalgic look overcame him. “She always said that, when she wanted a child, she didn’t want that child just to be another version of her—she wanted someone entirely new. She wanted _you_ for who _you_ are, Steven.” He offered a hug, spreading his arms wide. “Not who you _might_ be.”

Steven grinned widely, and accepted the hug. “Thanks, Dad. It’s just… kinda hard, right now.”

“Trust me, Kiddo,” Greg replied, squeezing his son, “With the Crystal Gems, it always is.”


	3. Tropical Tangent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrysocolla never knows what to say.

The warp pad sang, and a beam of light descended from the sky and crashed into the earth. After a moment, the light vanished, and in the place on the warp pad it struck, two figures now stood.

“So where’d you take me, Chrysocolla?” Steven looked up excitedly at the taller Gem, who couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

 _"This,_ Steven,” she began dramatically, “Is Aloha.”

" _Pacific City_ , Aloha?” Steven asked, eyes bright and starry.

“Look for yourself,” Chrysocolla offered. Stepping off the warp pad, she led Steven through the thick foliage. They need only travel a minute before they reached a dropoff. Steven gasped as he overlooked Pacific City, capital of Aloha State, far below. The sun by now shone high above, and a brilliant blue sky, sparsely decorated with bright white clouds, hung far overhead—in stark contrast to the overcast that was left behind in Beach City.

As soon as Steven looked back, Chrysocolla offered him a wide grin, and nodded. Extending his arms, she took his hands in hers, and jumped from the cliff ledge, Steven in tow.

Not a moment passed before wings sprouted from the gem on her back, and with a mighty heave, Chrysocolla pulled herself out of the fall, holding onto Steven tightly all the while. Steven laughed and whooped as he was carried what felt like miles above the ground. The wind flowed in between them, and as Chrysocolla caught a warm gust in her water wings, the pair soared even higher.

But it wasn’t to last forever, and as the two got over themselves, Chrysocolla began to descend to the city below.

“Chrysocolla, you still haven’t told me where we’re going!” He had to yell over the roar of the wind.

“You always said you wanted to check out Pacific City, right?”

That wasn’t untrue. “Well, what’re we gonna do here?”

"Relax!" A thoughtful look crossed Chrysocolla’s face as she looked down at him. “If I’m honest, I’m banned from, like, ninety-five percent of the beaches on this island. Whenever I come to surf in a competition, I’m ‘cheating,’ or ‘under arrest.’” She used heavy air quotes with her two free hands as she spoke, amused grin plastered on her face. “Humans worry a lot!”

Steven’s smile lessened, through Chrysocolla didn’t seem to notice. “Guess so.”

The ground approached slowly, and Chrysocolla gently let go of Steven as his feet touched the ground. “Nice job on not losing those foam-rubber sole protectors in our flight, Steven. Don’t want to have to ask Greg for another pair.”

“They’re called flip-flops, Chrys.”

Chrysocolla shrugged. “Sure.”

Steven couldn’t lie: after the incident a week ago where he had nearly summoned his shield, the thought had never left him. His gem never glowed again—not for lack of trying—and Chrysocolla would continually make up excuses for him whenever he complained about it to her. She wasn’t great at comfort—even Chrycocolla herself could attest to that. At least Dad had been helpful in that regard, though, as a human, there was only so much he could do…

_Human._

Nope,  he wasn’t thinking about that now. Now was Pacific City time.

 

* * *

 

It felt like only minutes before the sun began its lazy descent beyond the horizon, and Steven suddenly found difficulty staying awake.

“It’s hours past your bedtime,” Chrysocolla reminded him gently. She sat across from him at a small table, enjoying a highly decorated milkshake, almost too beautiful to eat—yet she sucked the liquid greedily thru two straws at the same time. Milkshakes, it seemed, were some of the few things Chrysocolla _could_ stomach.  “Seven o’clock in Aloha means eleven o’clock in Delmarva.”

“I’ve stayed up later,” Steven complained. His appetite for milkshakes had long passed.

“And we know how you get when you’re like that,” Chrysocolla teased.

 _“Chryyyysss,”_ he groaned, “I’m eleven.”

Chrysocolla only raised an eyebrow. “Humans don’t finish development ‘till twenty-five years of life, right? You’re _almost_ halfway there. But you’re not there.”

Steven crossed his arms. “Well… what if my Gem heritage makes me less sleepy? Have you thought of that?”

“Yeah,” Chrysocolla admitted, as if it were obvious. “Your development doesn’t seem all too different from a normal human’s.” Upon noticing Steven’s unexpectedly heated glare, she shrugged and bit her inner cheek. “It’s the truth.”

Maybe it was time to cut to the chase. “Chrysocolla… am I gem, or human?”

Caught off-guard by the nature of the question, Chrysocolla seemed at a momentary loss for words. “Do you… want a scientific answer, or a philosophical one? ‘Cause I got both, if you need ‘em.”

“Nevermind,” Steven muttered, looking off to the side and taking a heavy drag from his milkshake.

“Hmm.” Chrysocolla hummed, stroking her chin. “Steven, I won’t lie… I don’t know, either.” A soft smile crossed her face. “Just know that you’re _you,_ okay?”

“I guess,” Steven relented.

A moment of pause, as both returned to their shakes, welcoming the moment of reprieve.

Chrysocolla spoke again first. “You wanna go to the beach, while we still have some sun?”

“I thought you said you were banned from all the beaches?” Steven asked, confused.

"I said ninety-five percent of the beaches,” Chrysocolla winked. “Last I checked, there’s a hundred twenty-five beaches on Gathering Island. That means there’s six beaches left on this island that I’m not banned from.”

“You did all that in your head?” Steven marveled, easily impressed.

“I’m just that great,” Chrysocolla shrugged. “Now, are you ready to make it into the historic annals of the few—the legendary—who’re banned from _every_ beach on Gathering Island?”

“Uh, not sure if I wanna be banned from _every_ beach,” Steven laughed, beginning to cheer up, “But sure, I can try!”

“That’s the spirit!” Chrysocolla declared as she leapt to her feet, milkshake still in hand. “Let’s go!”

“You aren’t gonna pay for our shakes?” Steven asked, suddenly worried.

“No, Steven, I used up the rest of Greg’s money he gave us at the last shopping center.” She patted the gem on her back, which stored every item she bought. “Worth it, though.”

“If you don’t pay, you’re gonna get banned. Or arrested,” Steven reminded.

“Oh, Steven,” Chrysocolla cooed after downing the rest of her drink, “one of my favorite things about Earth is that no matter how many places you get banned from, there’s always a thousand more places just like it. She grinned and lowered to her knee, showing him her back. “Now, climb on before the cops come and we’re _actually_ arrested.”

 _Dad’ll talk to her later._ Steven took comfort in that fact as, with no other options, he climbed on her back, and the two took to the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of your trial run of Blue-green Gem. Chapters 1-3 were all written months before publishing. Every chapter from here on out, I will attempt to write and publish on a semi-regular basis. Future chapters may read differently in that, you know, they do more than just allude to a plot.
> 
> Here's to a coherent story!


	4. Another Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven always figured that his life wasn't quite normal. It really should come as no surprise when that's proven to be true.

The Saturday sun hung far above the small town of Beach City. The stark blue sky was unmarred by any cloud cover whatsoever, and in the noon warmth, the town was bustling. And yet the quiet beach at the end of the Beach City peninsula was almost entirely deserted.

This would partly explain Steven’s strange behavior that day, as he was entirely distracted by the sight of a girl down on the beach by the waves, with her nose deeply buried in a book.

He sucked in a breath. “Steven’s going in.”

Steeling himself, Steven stood up from the bench beside the window. His eyes were locked on his target, his heart beat strongly in his chest, and in his left hand, he held an unassuming red glow bracelet—still cold from its time spent in the freezer.

Steven took exactly four steps towards the screen door before the warp pad suddenly sang. Face immediately brightening in excitement, Steven bounded towards the warp pad, “Chrys, you’re back!”

Unfortunately, before he even finished his sentence, Chrysocolla was already off the Warp Pad, and opening the door to the Temple. A partially translucent tablet, which was glowing a conspicuous red, was tucked tightly in both of her left arms. “I’m sorry, Steven, I can’t stay long—heeeey, what do you got there?” She immediately stopped mid-way through the doorway as her eyes locked onto the glow bracelet in Steven’s hand.

In spite of the boy’s sudden attempts to hide it, a knowing grin soon crossed her face. “That wouldn’t be that girl’s bracelet you picked up back after your dad’s parade, wouldn’t it?”

Steven tried to speak but stuttered, a deep blush crossing his face. “H-how’d you even remember that?”

“I remember a lot of things. Now, is she in town, or what? Oh, and also, did you catch her name? I could totally set something up for you guys! I know all the best—” A sudden shrill beeping sound emanating from her tablet cut her off, and Chrysocolla’s previously excited face was immediately replaced by a look of what could only be described as weariness. “Uuuugh. Mission. Can’t talk.”

And at that, she quickly reopened the Temple door and closed it behind her. Only a second later, she re-opened it, showing Steven two thumbs up and murmuring a quick, “Good luck!” before shutting the door once again behind her.

Steven wiped sweat from his forehead, for once glad that Chrysocolla wasn’t around for too long. Turning back around towards the screen door, he re-steeled himself, and marched determinedly outside.

The girl was still there, thankfully, still reading her book by the waves.

 

* * *

 

“Gotta find it, gotta find it, gotta find it...”

Chrysocolla walked briskly, murmuring quietly to herself as she wandered the vacuous Temple library. Millennia of collecting things had added up, and the Gem had had to find some way to organize it all. Say what you will about her hoarding—at least she was neat about it.

The shrill beeping of her tablet suddenly became even louder, and Chrysocolla gritted her teeth as she was again reminded of the urgency of the situation.

On a lonely shelf, surrounded by an array of empty glass vials, was a single vial filled with a pinkish liquid. Immediately upon spotting it, Chrysocolla extended her wings and practically sailed the final fifty feet or so towards the shelf, grabbing the filled vial. She paid no mind as she accidentally knocked over several of the empty vials, shattering them on the stone floor. She turned her vial over in her hand, and found it marked _Sample 91 A._

The continuous beeping wore on her, and yet she faltered.

Her blue half hesitated, _are we really going to use our very last sample?_

Chrysocolla’s brows furrowed, a deep pit forming in her stomach.

_We have to. She needs us._

After a long moment, she nodded to herself in affirmation, and hazarded a glance down at her tablet. Her eyes then widened, and she did a double-take.

“...Really? _Now?_ ” she sighed.

She placed the vial back on the shelf.

 

* * *

 

“S-so… your glasses! They’re pink!”

The girl looked up from her book and, after a moment of looking around to locate the person who had spoken to her, finally made eye contact with Steven.

“Were you… talking to me?” She asked, face unreadable.

“Y-yeah…” Steven let out a nervous laugh. “Uh… I’m Steven, and…”

 _Give her the bracelet, Steven!_ Chrysocolla probably would have been practically shouting that at him by now. “Uhh—here you go!” He quickly extended his hand out to her, glow bracelet held on open palm for the girl to see.

After a moment, a look of recognition flashed in her eyes. “You’re the boy I saw at the parade a week ago! You had bubbles in your hair!” Placing her bookmark, she shut her book and stood up, a small grin on her face. “And… is that my bracelet?”

Steven let out another laugh, though this one wasn’t nearly so anxious. “Yeah… You dropped it, and I went to give it back, but you were gone! I put it in the fridge to keep it cold, and everything.”

The girl grinned, and Steven suddenly looked away—before she took the bracelet from his hands. “Thank you, Steven!” She slipped the bracelet onto her right wrist, though seemed much more interested in the boy who had brought it to her. “I’m Connie… Connie Maheswaran.” She squinted at him, “Is your dad’s last name really Universe? Or is that just a stage name? It was plastered all over his van in the parade.”

“Yup! And I’m Steven Universe!” Steven practically beamed.

Connie only stared at him, wide-eyed.

Steven’s grin faltered somewhat, “Uhh… That’s not weird, is it?”

Rapidly shaking her head, she clutched her book to her chest. Her free hand, trembling, pointed directly over Steven’s shoulder.

Blinking, Steven slowly turned, and looked down into the waters of the beach.

Partly hidden in the murky water was a lime green eyeball, a band of black spanning its circumference. A dark, emotionless pupil stared right back up at him, and sent shivers down his spine.

“...Hello?” Steven offered cautiously.

“Can you talk to it?” Connie hissed to him skeptically, face partly hidden behind her book.

“I dunno, but it doesn’t look like it wants to hurt us.” After sharing a glance with Connie, he took a step forward, with Connie taking a step forward in turn. The eye followed him watchfully as he shifted, hardly moving. “Hello? I’m Steven, and this is Connie. What’s your name?”

Several bubbles gurgled up around the eyeball. The eye didn’t blink.

“I, uh, didn’t really catch that,” Steven muttered.

Conjuring up some bravery, Connie took another step forward. “I think it looks like some sort of rock.” Sharing one more glance with Steven, she outstretched a hand and leaned forward, attempting to pick it up.

A pair of huge jaws immediately snapped shut around the eyeball, razor-sharp edges missing Connie’s fingers by inches, causing both children to fall backwards in surprise. Connie practically shrieked, dropping her book carelessly on the beach, “Not a rock! _Not a rock!”_

Steven didn’t seem nearly as terrified, snapping as realization seemed to strike him. “Not _just_ a rock! It’s a monster!”

“Steven, what are you talking about!?”

“It’s a Gem monster! They show up here sometimes.”

_“What!?”_

The pair of enormous jaws slowly began to rise from the water. It seemed to grow taller and taller: the body of a titanic centipede, razor-sharp claws waving wildly in pairs on each body segment, towered above the two children. The creature’s gnarled head, decorated by a ghastly white mane, blotted out the midday sun. The green eye, nestled in between a massive pair of midnight-black jaws, stared down at the children below it.

Steven and Connie could only stare at it, wide-eyed.

It _screeched._

Screaming, the children leapt to their feet and ran for their lives. The terrible centipede took off after them, slobbering and drooling a green volatile liquid onto the sand of the beach. Steven decidedly did _not_ want to find out what that was.

“Steven, over here!” Grabbing Steven’s hand, Connie took a sudden turn, almost tripping Steven in the process. She made a beeline for the colossal stone hand of the Temple, which was jutting out of the beach. She practically dove behind it, and Steven followed.

Roughly landing on his belly, momentarily safe in the hand’s embrace, Steven looked up at Connie—and time seemed to slow. The pretty girl he had spotted at that parade was disheveled and terrified, head clutched in both hands. Her pink glasses were ajar on her face, and her eyes were wild and unfocused, staring down at the sand—no, at Steven. She was _concerned,_ not only for herself, but for him. Around her right wrist was her glow-bracelet, a symbol of their _apparent_ newfound friendship. A gift given only minutes ago.

_If I weren’t a Crystal Gem, we wouldn’t be about to die right now._

Steven looked down from Connie and into the sand, wide-eyed. He had yet to pick himself back up.

_If I lived on a normal beach in a normal beach house, with a normal Dad, and a normal Chrys, and a normal Mom, we wouldn’t be about to die right now._

_I_ am _a Gem. That’s what scares me the most._

“S...Steven, are you okay?” She asked softly—or as softly as she could, given the circumstances. She was visibly wincing at the sound of the centipede monster’s legs as it prowled the beach. It definitely knew they were behind the stone hand—was it toying with them?

“A-are _you_ okay?” He asked, sniffling. He couldn’t bear to look back up at her. “I don’t know why I even bothered. I’m sorry.”

Connie’s eyes were wide, as she stared down at Steven. She sank to her haunches beside him, “S-Steven, get up. You have to get up!” Grabbing his hand, she tugged as hard as she could. A shadow fell upon both of them, as the centipede loomed. “You _have_ to get _up!”_

The creature wailed, body arching over the height of the colossal stone hand as it gazed down at its prey. Green goo fell from its maw, and sizzled at the Stone fingertips. Steven finally looked up, and was pulled to his feet by Connie.

“This… is now how I thought my day would go,” Steven murmured shakily, and he clutched Connie’s arm. The girl tensed for a second.

“...Me neither,” she admitted, and clutched his shoulder back. They both stared into the maw of the centipede, helplessly awaiting their doom.

That is, until the sea suddenly exploded.

Steven and Connie winced and covered their faces as a huge spray of ocean water overtook the scene, reducing visibility to zero. Even the centipede creature cried out in surprise. The kids had the wind knocked out of them as, from the side, a tall figure clutched them both in its arms and flew away.

Gently, both kids were set back down on the beach, away from the cloud of sea mist, mere feet away from the wooden ramp to Steven’s beach house. Steven had to wipe his eyes of the sea salt in order to catch a glimpse of his savior.

Chrysocolla grinned down at both of them, though her grin was a strained one. “Are you two okay?”

Steven blinked, quickly nodding, as Connie stared up at Chrysocolla—again, wide-eyed. “You have four arms,” she murmured.

“I get that a lot,” Chrysocolla nodded. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to deal with that Centipeetle.” Turning on the ball of her foot, she extended her wings, which glowed a bright blue in the midday sunshine, as she started towards the cloud of mist she had created to confuse the Centipeetle. But then she paused, looking back at Connie. “It was, uh… nice to meet you. I’m sorry, this isn’t a great first impression, isn’t it?”

Connie shook her head suddenly, “N-no! It’s fine. Really.”

As Chrysocolla nodded again and leapt into the cloud of mist, Connie sat quietly back onto the sand, pulling her knees up to her chest. Steven, after a moment, followed.

"Is that your mom?” She asked quietly, dumbstruck.

“...Kinda? A little bit?” Steven tilted his head, not quite sure of the answer himself.

A moment passed, as the sounds of an intense brawl began to emanate from the mist cloud. Occasionally, the Centipeetle’s tail, or the tip of a humongous golden sword—crackling with electricity, Steven noticed in surprise—would swish outside of the mist cloud. A pillar of water erupted from the center of the cloud, and the Centipeetle screeched. The stone hand that Connie and Steven had been hiding behind shattered within the cloud, huge chunks of rock flying outwards into the Atlantic. The kids only watched in dumbfounded silence.

“Uh, Steven,” Connie started slowly, finally pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, “What were you trying to say to me earlier? When we were about to die?”

“Oh? Oh. Yeah.” Steven blushed, scratching the back of his head. “Chrysocolla… fights monsters. Like, all the time.” His eyes unfocused as he stared towards the mist cloud. “This is a normal Saturday for me. Except, usually I don’t fight the monsters.” He sighed. “I understand if you don’t want to be around me.”

With a start, Connie turned to him. “Steven- no! I can understand if you don’t want to be around _me!_ _Nothing_ like this has ever happened to me! I think I’ve already peaked just because I experienced that. And-and you say that this is a normal Saturday for you?”

From the mist cloud, a loud crunching noise sounded. Chrysocolla cried out, _“Oww! Son of a…”_ before another a loud _smack_ sent the gigantic Centipeetle flying straight up, screeching all the way. Steven and Connie watched in silence as it sailed above their heads, and above the beach house. The kids both winced as it collided into the face of the massive temple statue, watching in awe as it suddenly burst into a white cloud of smoke.

As the smoke cleared, a single green orb—the eyeball of the Centipeetle—bounced off of the statue, cascading downwards towards the beach house. Yet before it could collide, and potentially shatter, a large hand of water rose from the ocean, gently catching the green orb in its palm. Gently, the hand carried the orb over the beach, and dropped it in the soft sand, mere feet away from the kids.

“Yeah,” Steven confirmed. “Normal Saturday.”

From the gently dispersing cloud of mist, walking with a visible limp and dragging behind her a massive golden greatsword, came Chrysocolla. Her visor was cracked, and her teal hair was partly covering her face. She looked absolutely exhausted, but brightened when she saw the kids again. Approaching them slowly and without a word, she bent down and retrieved the green orb, conjuring a blue-green bubble around it. With a gentle sigh, she tapped the bubble’s top, and it vanished.

“So, what’s your name, kid?” She asked Connie, placing both of her left hands on her hip.

“Uhh… Connie Maheswaran, ma’am. Are you Mrs. Universe..?”

Chrysocolla snorted in laughter, “Me and Greg? No, I just live with his kid. Besides, I’m already in a relationship.” Both Steven and Connie were quiet at Chrysocolla’s last remark, and she rubbed the back of her neck. “Eh. Forget I said anything. Just call me Chrysocolla.”

Steven stood up, brushing his pants of any sand, and offered a hand to Connie. She took it, and he pulled her up. “So… what was that thing?” She asked tentatively.

Chrysocolla’s grin faltered. It occured to Steven that he rarely saw her frown. “That’s what I like to call a Centipeetle,” she answered, “and all further questions are classified.” She dropped her sword in the sand, and it immediately vanished as it dissolved into light. Crossing her arms, she continued boredly, as if reciting something from memory, “I am a Crystal Gem, and it is my mission to protect mankind from outside threats. Which I am _pretty_ good at, if I do say so myself. You don’t have to worry about anything when I’m around.”

“In fact,” she continued, lowering to her haunches to meet Connie and Steven face-to-face, “You _shouldn’t_ worry about it. Your lives are too short to worry about things that I already have covered. Steven, Connie, _your_ purposes in life are to make the most of it, and above all, have fun while doing so. Why don’t you go down to the boardwalk, and get some food? Or go inside and play video games?”

“We were just attacked, Chrys,” Steven reminded. “Don’t we get a _little_ say in Gem business?”

Chrysocolla’s face darkened somewhat, and she stood up, looking out towards the ocean horizon. “Well, _my_ business would be smart to stay far away from yours.” Nodding down at Steven and Connie, she extended her wings once more, and flew up to the beach house patio, ducking her head to enter the building.

“Wow,” Connie murmured. “Steven, Chrysocolla is really intense.”

“I think she’s just really stressed right now,” Steven excused her. “And she’s really protective.”

Clutching her arm, Connie looked off to the side. “Well… I guess I should go. My dad wants to take me home by three PM.”

“That’s- that’s fine,” Steven nodded. “But, uh, will I… see you again? Sometime?”

Connie grinned. “I was going to ask you the same thing. I live only fifteen minutes away by bus. I can come on the weekends.”

“And next time, let’s not get chased by a Centipeetle,” Steven added.

“Sounds like a plan.” Connie agreed with a laugh. “I’ll, uh… I’ll see you around.” And with a small wave, she began to jog back to Beach City in order to make it back on time—though with a tiny spring in her step.

Steven watched her go with a small smile, waving back at her, before something struck him. “Heeyy! Wait!” With a start, he practically sprinted towards the end of the beach, and retrieved Connie’s book that had been dropped in the commotion. Panting, he ran back—though Connie was nowhere to be found. She could be anywhere by now.

With a sigh, he examined the book in his hands. Though it was covered in sand, it seemed no worse for wear otherwise. Plus, the bookmark still retained Connie’s place. Turning it over in his hands, he examined the title. _“The Unfamiliar Familiar,”_ he read aloud.

In spite of himself, he grinned, and fell backwards onto the beach, staring up into the sky. He clutched the book to his chest, a feeling of lightness expanding in his chest.

He could always give it back to her next weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely a turn in tone when compared to the previous three chapters, even if this is still fairly lighthearted.  
> I feel somewhat lost as I try to decide from whose perspective every chapter should be told from. I'm still trying to retain the feeling of the original show, and that would mean telling this story primarily from Steven's perspective. Of course, the sheer existence of Chrysocolla brings a lot of attention to her, and I find myself wanting to write from her perspective, as well - even at the risk of revealing some things I probably shouldn't reveal.  
> As a side note, this fic as a whole is largely inspired by the wonderful fic [Opal, Sapphire, Ruby, and STEVEN!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5673712/chapters/13070491) by [iamconstantine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamconstantine/pseuds/iamconstantine), which I highly suggest reading if you haven't. See if you can spot similarities! Hint: it's not that hard. As this fic goes on, I will try to deviate from this formula, of course - it's still early, and there's a lot to cover.


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